


Quest For Erebor

by AmbiguouslyGayBagginshield



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Bilbo POV, Bilbo is so done with everyone's shit all the time, Bilbo kind of talks to himself but he's not crazy, Gandalf Meddles, HRBB14, Humor, M/M, Swearing, The Dragon Slayer, Thorin Is an Idiot, Thorin POV, Thorin is geographically challenged, Video game style au, hobbit reverse big bang 2014, its a hobbit thing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-17
Updated: 2014-12-17
Packaged: 2018-02-27 19:29:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2703803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmbiguouslyGayBagginshield/pseuds/AmbiguouslyGayBagginshield
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hobbit Reverse Big Bang 2014<br/>A video game-esque au in which Bilbo helps a group of rude, hairy dwarves reclaim their mountain with as minimal bodily harm as possible. Just because he's doing it doesn't mean he's very happy about it. In fact he's not impresed at all! He and Gandalf were going to have stern words, on the condition that the wizard wouldn't turn him into a frog for his sass.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Quest For Erebor

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt- http://sinisterfeline.tumblr.com/post/96316024002/my-sketches-drafts-and-introduction-to-my-prompt  
> 

  _Many years ago, when the mountain lands were fertile and the stone carved through great skill and ruthless dedication. Erebor was strong and its strength supported the city of the lake. Lasting thousands of years, the line of Durin ruled over this prosperous realm. But then the dragon came. Smaug the Terrible tore these strong cities from their great height. The green foliage that decorated the edges of the mountain shrivelled and died. The greenery burned away and would no longer grow as blood forever tainted its soil. The Lake Town burned to a crisp despite its watery surroundings. The small town became desolate, filled with the poor and starving. Every dwarf whose life was not tragically lost became a vagabond, wandering with the hope of a new home despite the odds. The mountain became empty save for one foul beast whom spent his days lain upon piles of stolen wealth. And so it would remain…until. Until the Dragon Slayer returns to the mountain and defeats the terrible beast. He shall slay the dragon alone, a feat only he can achieve. The plants will find growth yet again and gold shall flow through the Mountain like shimmering streams once more. This brave warrior will save us all and take the crown of the Lonely, yet no longer desolate, Mountain. But who is this Dragon Slayer and when shall he appear..._

[ ](http://tinypic.com?ref=v6q29u)

YOU HAVE NOW ENTERED: **THE SHIRE**

‘Why are we here Gandalf?’ Thorin grumbled.

‘We are here for our quest Master Oakenshield.’ Gandalf huffed, jostling the grey scarf around his neck. He looked around with a bemused smile. The Shire was very beautiful, even at night. The graphic designers must have spent a long time on the scenery.

‘But Erebor is that way.’ Thorin snapped, this wizard already annoyed him. He raised his hand pointing behind them, about north-east. Balin stepped up to him quickly and moved his hand so that it was pointing more in a south-westerly direction. Thorin quickly lowered his hand and put on a stern face. He would not be embarrassed by the challenges to his internal geographic skills.

‘We need a burglar.’

‘Why are we in this place then?’ Thorin grumbled. This place looked overly quaint and … beautiful. But he still couldn’t quite trust it. It was almost too perfect. A trap maybe.

‘I will check the perimeter, ensure our safety.’ The dwarf declared, turning away from the wizard despite his protest that they were quite safe. He watched the company follow the wizard up a short road before turning down the opposite road.

**………**

Bilbo looked down at his yummy fried fish, served with a side of vegetables of course, with a happy sigh. He had cooked this one really well and he couldn’t wait. They had cod in the fish market today which you often didn’t get this time of year in the Shire. Bilbo had snagged one of those straight away. And then there was a loud knock on the door.

He did consider ignoring it, he was a hobbit and his food was important! But then the knocking became more persistent and the very last thing he wanted was damage to his lovely freshly painted door.

He sighed as he stood hoping it wasn’t bloody Lobelia Sackville-Baggins after his silverware. Or perhaps Buttercup Maggot, she was a lovely old woman but she didn’t half nagger on about all her grandchildren and great grandchildren. Bilbo’s fish would be cold.

Bilbo tied his bathrobe around his waist tightly and opened the door. Suddenly a load of dwarves fell onto his floor. Gandalf ducked a little, coming into view beneath the round door frame. He was probably hiding. Never trust a wizard.  Bilbo opened his mouth to speak but the dwarves wriggled around like a load of worms… hairy worms at that, and stood.

‘Fili.’ The blonde dwarf stood in front of him smiled. The two young dwarves had clearly been at the back as they were the first to be righted.

‘And Kili.’ The young dwarf next to him cried excitedly before pushing past him and walking in. The blonde one, Fili, began to load swords and daggers into Bilbo’s arms. If it had been anything else Bilbo would have just dropped them but he was worried about the damage they would do to the floor and he was barefoot after all.

‘Can you not do that?! THAT’S MY MOTHER’S GLORY BOX!’ Bilbo shouted as Kili began to attack his mother’s glory box with his sword. He stopped but it was already too late. The box was smashed.

‘Sorry… I thought there might be coins in there.’ Kili said quietly, looking awkwardly to his brother for guidance. Fili just shrugged.

‘Even if it did they would be mine, would they not?’ Bilbo snapped, looking down in dismay at the beautiful wooden chest now splinters of wood on the floor. He dropped the weapons onto a soft seated bench, wincing as he heard a faint rip.

‘Gandalf.’ Bilbo growled as the rest of the dwarves pushed past him. How very rude! No only did he not invite them in but they did not even introduce themselves.

‘Cheer up your face my friend. Your mother would not see you looking so thunderous.’ Gandalf chuckled as the dwarves headed in a direction that scarily looked like it was toward Bilbo’s pantry. Bilbo crossed his arms with a huff.

At the mention of his mother he couldn’t help but look sadly at the broken shards of wood that were once his mother’s beautiful glory box.

‘My dear Bilbo what on Earth is the matter?’ Gandalf asked cheerily. Bilbo floundered at the question. Hands waving for lack of knowing how to express to someone so obviously oblivious to the entire worlds around them how he felt.

Gandalf let out a small understand hum when he spotted the broken glory box. He nodded thoughtfully before muttering some words in Elvish. The splintered wood suddenly began to piece itself back together. In no time the glory box was good as new. Bilbo blinked then frowned.

‘Cheer my friend, it is fixed. No need to thank me.’ Gandalf smiled as though it were some great courtesy that Bilbo didn’t need to thank him.

‘No there is no need to thank you! It’s your fault it’s broken. What in all that is good and green are they doing in my home?!’

‘It’s quite a merry gathering.’

‘I am not merry!’ Bilbo hissed. This wizard was so aggravating. Oh if he had the chance he would shove that staff right up that inconsiderate wizard’s ar-

‘MY FOOD!’ He cried as he saw several dwarves holding food from his pantry. His prize winning tomatoes! His jam! That was the last jar. Gandalf was seriously taking the cake now. However Bilbo was wrong it was in fact Bombur that was taking the cake… and the strawberries.

**…………**

Bilbo was sat on the floor in the corridor, he was leant against the wall. He’d just sort of given up at this point. They were singing. Must they sing?! Really?!

Oh god the plates. His mother’s west farthing pottery.  That was over 100 years old.

He supposed they all thought their little song was very funny. Well they wouldn’t get a rise out of him. Nope he was a bigger hobbit than that. Trying to stop them would only egg them on.  
How his life become so hectic and unrespectable in one evening? He couldn’t help but think blissfully back at a mere few hours ago when his life was peaceful.

As the dwarves giggled away at their silly little song and their attempt at giving the hobbit a heart attack there was a loud knock on the door. Oh no the paint work on his beautiful door. Who goes around thundering on people’s doors like that anyway?

‘He’s here.’ Gandalf murmured, looking over to the door slowly. Well Bilbo would like very much to know who this ‘he’ was and why he saw it fit to have a boxing match with his lovely green door.

‘Gandalf.’ The dark figure nodded, sending a small, if not a little sarcastic, smile in Gandalf’s direction. A shared disdain for the wizard, perhaps he and this dwarf might understand each other better than the others.

‘I thought you said this place was easy to find. I lost my way… twice.’ He huffed as he walked into the hobbit hole as if he owned it. Bilbo bristled at this. He had entered his house not only without Bilbo bidding him entrance but without even acknowledging him. What a wanker. So much for getting on with this dwarf, he was quite rude.

‘I thought you were checking the perimeter.’ Kili piped up with a frown. Thorin turned to him with a slightly patronising smile.

‘I was.’ He informed the younger dwarf as if he were slightly dim. Seemingly satisfied with that answer the dwarf turned back to (finally) acknowledge Bilbo.

‘But we could see the perimeter of this place at the other end of the road! How could you get lost?’ Kili cried before he could stop himself. Thorin’s speculative look was replaced with a hard look as he face suddenly blanched. He turned slowly giving Kili a ‘how dare you point out my obvious geographical floors to a hobbit whom I’m trying to intimidate’ look. Kili shut his mouth with a small pop and stepped back, although the look he shared with his brother suggested that he didn’t feel entirely chastised.

‘Wouldn’t have found it at all had it not been for that mark on the door.’ He commented, passing his coat to Kili.

‘Mark?! There’s no mark on that door.’ Bilbo snapped, moving around Gandalf with a hope to look at his door. ‘It was painted a week ago.’ He cried as Gandalf shut the door before he could get a glimpse. If that wizard had marked his beautiful door there would be hell to pay!

‘There is a mark; I put it there myself.’ Gandalf smiled. SMILED! Bilbo gaped at him in horror. His door! The hobbit was pulled out of his tiny mourning for his lovely door. ‘Bilbo Baggins, allow me to introduce you to the leader of our company, Thorin Oakenshield.’ The wizard said, introducing this guy as if he were something to marvel upon. Well forgive Bilbo if he didn’t courtesy.

‘So this is the hobbit.’ The older dwarf huffed, looking down his nose at Bilbo. ‘Tell me, Mr Baggins, have you done much fighting?’ He asked, starting to slowly circle him.

‘Excuse me?’ Bilbo huffed, raising his eyebrows and giving the dwarf a righteously unimpressed look. He wasn’t about to bullied in his own home by some rude dwarven warrior. HE was the guest in Bilbo’s home. This Thorin didn’t own this place, no need to act like it.

‘Axe or sword? What’s your weapon of choice?’ Thorin asked in a rather mocking tone that Bilbo did not appreciate.

‘Well.’ Bilbo cried, putting his hands on his hips with a frown. ‘I do have some skill at conkers if you must know but I fail to see why that’s relevant.’ He continued with a quirk of his head and a raised eyebrow. He heard a small chuckle from Gandalf.

‘Thought as much. He looks more like a grocer than a burglar.’ The dwarf replied, seemingly trying to match and counter Bilbo’s level of sass. A light wave of laughter spread through the dwarves. Bilbo’s mouth fell open a little in disbelief at the dwarf’s rudeness before he corrected his expression to a very unimpressed look.

..............  

Once everyone was settled around the table, Bilbo went into the pantry to collect some food for Thorin. Not only was he rude, he expected to be fed. As if he had any food left anyway after the rest of them had invaded the pantry.

A few moments later Bilbo placed a bowl of soup and some bread in front of him. Thorin lifted the spoon to his mouth and turned to look at the hobbit with a disgruntled look. ‘It’s cold.’ He frowned, looking up at him yet somehow still looking down at him at the same time.

‘Oh is it.’ Bilbo replied with a level of mock concern that was clearly faked. ‘Nothing I can do about that.’ He shrugged with raised eyebrows.

‘If only I were a grocer I might be able to help you a little better.’ He sighed. Thorin met his eye and the pair glared daggers at each other.

‘Bilbo, perhaps we could have a little more light.’ Gandalf said a little awkwardly as he broke the silence. Their eyes narrowed in unison. It appeared that Thorin was surprised by his sass.

‘Sure.’ Bilbo hummed, stepping away but continuing to glare at the dwarf. He slid out of sight and went to fetch more candles.

As he returned, with one or two lit candles paced around the hallway and an extra one on the table. ‘They say it’s our quest and ours alone.’ Thorin stated, clearly finishing a conversation.

‘You’re going on a quest?’ Bilbo could help himself from asking. He couldn’t resist a good story, having a good many tales of journeys and maps littered around his study. Gandalf gave him an annoyingly knowing smile and pulled a map from the sleeve of his robe.

‘The… Lonely Mountain?’ Bilbo asked, looking down at the rather simple map. It looked remarkably over simplified. How anyone was supposed to get anywhere with it was beyond him.

‘Far to the east, over ranges and rivers lies a single solitary peak.’ Gandalf informed the group. Thorin frowned, why was he looking at them? Surely he should be directing this statement at the hobbit. He knew what Erebor was he’d fucking lived there for half of his life.

‘That’s why we need a burglar.’ Ori cried, pointing vaguely in Bilbo’s direction, his finger hard visible beneath his ill-fitting knitted clothes. Nori had looted the cardigan from an enemy and given it to Ori. Dori had fussily made him wear armour beneath it because the knit wear was such a low level.

‘Hmm a good one I would say… an expert.’ Bilbo nodded, straightening the doily on the side table next to him. Despite the fact that he hadn’t invited these guest he couldn’t be seen to be a bad host. No matter how smelly, hairy, rude or loud they were. They’d be gone soon and once they were gone he would give Gandalf a piece of his mind. Of course he’d still be careful, the wizard was a level 99 after all and Bilbo really didn’t want to be turned into a frog or something.

‘And are you?’ The hobbit looked up at this question. He has been distracted by his thoughts on how horrible it must be to be a frog, all those muddy puddles and eugh flies always on the menu, day in day out. No that certainly wouldn’t do.

‘Am I what?’ Bilbo blanched, looking behind him. His thumbs stuck under his braces.

‘He said he’s an expert!’ Oin cried. Several eyes rolled at this, that deaf bastard.

‘What me?!’ Bilbo cried in disbelief. Maybe they’d be better if he directed them towards that thieving Lobelia Sackville-Baggins. He sighed a little as he thought of his beautiful silver spoons that she had stolen, he never got all of them back. ‘I’ve never stolen a thing in my life.’

‘He’s not exactly burglar material, I doubt he has the xp for it.’ Dwalin snorted, a hand lovingly stroking the head of his axe. Thorin wrinkled his nose in slightly uncomfortable disgust, he wasn’t sure the dwarf even knew he was doing it. It had started quite simply and innocently when he named them, ‘Grasper’ and ‘Keeper’, but now it had become oddly obsessive and ever so slightly sexual. 

Bilbo crossed his arms with a huff. He was conflicted as to whether to be offended by the gruff warrior’s judgemental comments or to be adamantly in agreement with him.

There was a soft ‘ding’ sound and Thorin gritted his teeth. He looked down disdainfully to see a notification: ‘JOIN THE QUEST FOR EREBOR?’ Bilbo’s specs appeared beneath the notification and Thorin’s jaw dropped.

‘He’s only level 3?!’ The dwarven prince cried, turning to glare at Gandalf. Thorin was the highest level in the company, with the exception of the Wizard, at level 83. Thorin had known toddlers with higher levels than this hobbit.

‘You must trust me on this.’ Gandalf said with an annoyingly knowing twinkle in his eye. The pair of them stared at each other for a moment. In any other situation it could come across to a stranger as a rather romantic moment if it weren’t for Thorin’s eye twitching and the crumbs in his hands where a biscuit used to be.

‘Fine, give him the contract.’ Balin nodded, pulling the contract from his inventory.

‘Great, we’re off.’ Bofur laughed, clapping his hands excitedly as Bilbo took the contract and opened the contract.

‘Oh, up to but not exceeding one fourteenth total profit if any. Seems fair.’ Bilbo muttered as he read through the contract. Gandalf chuckled to himself. Bilbo Baggins was the only man he’d ever known to read the terms and conditions.

‘Present company shall not be liable for injuries including but not limited to laceration, evisceration...?!’ He cried, looking up worriedly at Gandalf. He felt a little faint. The Wizard raised an eyebrow as Bilbo bent over, hands on his knees as he began to breathe deeply.

‘Just accept it, nobody reads the terms and conditions.’ Thorin huffed. This low level gentle hobbit annoyed him with his braces and his button nose and his adorable flummoxed yet slightly disdainful disposition… wait what? Well he was definitely not admiring the view of the hobbit bent double. He hated him. Totally and utterly hated him. He was useless, dead weight for this quest. Tch a level 3 indeed.

‘INCINERATION?!’ Bilbo cried, voice a little shrill as he looked back at the contract, the words jumping out to him in a way that made him want to vomit. Oh Yavanna give him strength he couldn’t quite get through reading about the quest and his potentially horrible death how would he actually handle a quest and his horrible death. Nope. No way. No how. Sorry Gandalf but not sorry.

‘Oh, aye, he'll melt the flesh off your bones in the blink of an eye.’ Bofur cried with a level of cheer that made Bilbo seriously question the dwarf’s mental state. He did not dwell on this for long as he looked back down at the contract, his fear morphing into indignation. He was not going to be incinerated on the account of several rude smelly dwarves and a senile old wizard. In fact he wasn’t going to be incinerated _at all_.

‘I can’t accept this Gandalf. I’m only a level 3.’ Bilbo sighed, closing the contract. Using his level as an excuse might not be the classiest of ways out but Bilbo was a little desperate.

‘May I speak to you alone for a moment Bilbo?’ Gandalf said firmly, his question sounding more like a command, standing from his seat at the table. Bilbo was about to object, honestly the mere thought of him on an adventure was ridiculous, Gandalf had already walked past him into the sitting room. The hobbit huffed and followed, his Baggins side made him shoot one last look at the dwarves. He wasn’t sure he should leave them to their own devices for very long.

Bilbo slid into his comfy arm chair, motioning to the seat across from him but Gandalf ignored him. ‘Take a seat, it’s nice to sit quietly for a minute tonight.’ He said, is voice amicable and cheery yet his eyes glaring into the Wizard’s back.

‘You've been sitting quietly for far too long. Tell me, when did doilies and your mother's dishes become so important to you?’ Gandalf snapped, twirling in a flurry of grey robes and smoke to give Bilbo a hard stare. The hobbit blinked. Did the wizard not know? They became important when she died, they were all he had left of her.

‘I remember a young hobbit who was always running off in search of Elves, in the woods. He'd stay out late, come home, after dark, trailing mud and twigs and fireflies.’ A small smile twitched on Bilbo’s lips despite his disapproval of where this conversation was going.

‘A young hobbit who would've liked nothing better than to find out what was beyond the borders of the Shire. The world is not in your books and maps. It's out there.’ Gandalf sighed, waving his hand in an incantation. The smoke rising from his pipe took the form of a dragon, flying in long sweeping motions. Gosh that took him back.

He could remember his younger days when Gandalf used to visit Bag End. Bilbo would always be sat with his maps, planning his next adventure. Bungo would always complain that the wizard was encouraging his foolish and very un-hobbity fantasies but that did not deter the wizard.

As a hobbitling he would run around the garden amongst the fireflies, chasing a small smoke dragon. His mother and Gandalf would laugh cheerily as the dragon looped and swirled around in the night air. Bungo would sigh from his place at the window but Bilbo had seen him smile once or twice as he childishly giggled and fruitlessly tried to catch the smoke.

‘I can't just go running off into the blue! I am a Baggins, of Bag End!’ Bilbo cried, waggling his finger at Gandalf in a way he’d learned from his mother. He then snapped his fingers and pointed down at the floor. He wasn’t going to be bullied by this wizard, he may be bigger, stronger and a much higher level but Bilbo still had his attitude, and his intolerance for people’s shit, on his side.

‘You are also a Took.’ Gandalf countered and Bilbo rolled his eyes. Well now the wizard was just messing around with semantics. Names didn’t really mean anything, Bilbo had stopped talking to the Took side of his brain long ago. Anyway his name wasn’t Bilbo Took or Bilbo Took-Baggins. It was Bilbo Baggins thank you very much.

‘I’m also a level 3.’ Bilbo snapped, glaring at the wizard. Gandalf appeared to ignore him.

‘Did you know that your great, great, great, great uncle Bullroarer Took, was so large he could ride a real horse?’ Gandalf exclaimed, nodding at the portrait conveniently placed on the wall beside him. Dammit they should have had this conversation in his kitchen, there was nothing but portraits of respectable Bagginses on those walls. With a resigned sense of dread Bilbo nodded.

‘Yes, well he could!’ The wizard cried. Bilbo widened his eyes a bit in exasperation. _He had said yes._ This wizard need to chill out, maybe he needed a holiday or something.

‘In the battle of Greenfields, he charged the goblin ranks he swung his club so hard, it knocked the goblin king's head clean off, and it sailed a hundred yards through the air, and went down a rabbit hole.’ He waved his hand theatrically as he told the story. ‘And thus the battle as won, and the game of golf invented at the same time.’

‘I do believe you made that up.’ Bilbo huffed a laugh, fucking liar. He wasn’t a gullible hobbitling anymore but he couldn’t help the small feeling of fondness towards the story and the wizard at that story.

‘Well, all good stories deserve embellishment. You'll have a tale or two to tell of your own when you come back.’ Gandalf sighed with a smile, groaning a little as he slid into the seat across from the hobbit. Bilbo was so distracted by the wizard finally sitting in the seat that he had so rudely ignored earlier that he nearly missed that last comment. What made this wizard so sure he was coming?

He’d just assumed that his little story had convinced Bilbo to join a quest of certain death, well certain death for him at the least.

‘Can you promise that I will come back?’ Bilbo asked, folding his arms across his chest. He would play this wizard’s game…for now.

‘No. And if you do, you'll not be the same.’ Gandalf said in sinister voice that didn’t fill Bilbo with any confidence at all. Game over.

‘That’s what I thought. Sorry Gandalf, go find someone who actually wants to steal from a dragon, the one with the star hair has tried to steal several of my belonging perhaps him.’ He huffed, standing from his seat and making to walk out of the room when he stopped and turned back to the wizard.

That dwarf had tried to sell him healing potions earlier for 50 coins each. Not only was that near three times the price but what real need did he have for them in the Shire? He had a healing potion in his cupboard that had a layer of dust over it from lack of use. To add insult to injury Bilbo had seen the starfish dwarf take them from the pack of the gruff one, he was pretty sure his name was Dwalin as he remembered it.

‘By the way if whoever you find isn’t sticky fingers over there, how about warning them before you just show up with a load of dwarves eh?’ Bilbo added, nodding his head in ‘fuck you’ kind of way before stalking off. Gandalf merely sat back in the chair and smoked his pipe, a small twinkle in his eye. Why did his eyes even twinkle like that anyway?! Do he have some kind of condition or something?

………..

Bilbo woke up to a very quiet house and he almost thought it was any other day. But then it all came back to him, like a big old slap in the face. He rose gingerly, afraid of what he was about find in his home. It was quiet though, too quiet. Even sleeping dwarves, as he found out last night, snore like thunder.

He dragged himself out of bed, trying to console the sense of dread filling his chest. Bilbo crept cautiously unto his kitchen, peeping his head inside the room, checking it was safe for the rest of his body to enter. There was no one there.

These dwarves could be tricksy though, especially with Gandalf ‘the chief meddler’ to encourage them. They could be hiding maybe. Bilbo poked his head under the chimney and looked up it. All clear. He took a few steps away from the cooker to suddenly stop, realising what he’d just done. Why would there be dwarves in his chimney? He thanked the Valar for a moment that he was alone and nobody saw that.

He punched the air with a small ‘hah’ as he walked into the front room to find it also empty. They were all gone! All the noise and he fuss and the excitement and…oh. He didn’t… he didn’t miss the excitement did he? _Of course you don’t_ , his Baggins side assured him. His Took side seemed to disagree.

It’s funny how the feel of a room can change in such a short space of time. Yesterday morning this room was warm and homely, and yet after a bunch of rowdy dwarves had stormed through it Bilbo was struck by how empty it really was. The thought left him feeling cold not comforted as he usually felt by his home.

Although Bilbo hated to admit it, it struck him just how lonely he really was. Sure had had several friends and distant relations but nothing… close. Nothing to warm his heart. All this time, since his parents’ passing, he’d been living alone in a home made for two or three or four.

He lowered himself into a wooden chair, suddenly realising how drab and isolated his life really was. His hand brushed a dagger that had been left on the table. One of the dwarves must have left it by accident. Half his relatives were waiting for him to die so they could have his home. His closest friend was his gardener, would Hamfast still be his friend if he didn’t pay him?

His life suddenly felt pointless. Oh he wished Gandalf and the dwarves had never come. He wished he could go back to the blissful ignorance he had towards the pitiful shame that was his life. Why could he not just go back to then? Back when his home didn’t feel empty and his heart felt warm.

In the end Bilbo would live alone and die alone. He would make no impact on the world. He would merely be just another hobbit. Nobody special. His life was pointless.

 _It doesn’t have to be._ Bilbo’s Took side whispered. Bilbo chewed on his lip a little, eyes flicking to the dagger. He picked it up with slightly shaky hands and held the handle firmly in his hand, gauging the feel of the weapon.

He caught sight of himself in a nearby mirror. When had he been crying? He looked at himself with the dagger in his hand. He couldn’t help but briefly think what his father would say. His mother would probably be proud, damn Took blood.

 _Are you going to sit around here and feel sorry for yourself or are you going to do something about it?_ His Took side asked. He did have a point. If he didn’t want to have a pointless life then maybe he should go and do something. Even the smallest of creatures can change the course of history, as he had heard Gandalf say on occasion.

Bugger it all, he was almost certainly going to regret this, but he was going on an adventure.

Suddenly in a flurry of motion he jumped up, grabbing thing to pack. He needed to be quick. Since the candles were still smoking a little they must not be far but he needed to pack as quickly as he could to catch up.

………….

‘Hi there can you help me, my chickens have gone missing. I’ll pay you 5 iron ore.’ A woman cried, a large question mark floating over her head. She was always loosing those chickens. She really needed a proper chicken coop.

‘Nope.’ He cried as he ran past. ‘I’m going on an adventure!’ He cried rather manically. Well there went the last of his respectability. No mind, he had dwarves to catch.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to my fantastic artist- http://sinisterfeline.tumblr.com/  
> BIG LOVE TO MY ARTIST!


End file.
